


the angel bite

by ephelid



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: And angst, Backstory, Comfort, Domestic, Emotional Manipulation, Family, Fluff, Gen, Lies, animal death mention, child!Milluki, child!chrollo, father/son relationship, lot of backstories, silva is a total dad, yes both it's family after all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-08-11 05:32:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7878412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephelid/pseuds/ephelid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one knows why the Zoldycks had became assassins generations ago, and they carefully ensure it remains this way. They don't let anyone come and get to know them and their secret. But many years ago, a twelve years old orphan, with a cross mark on his forehead, decided that there was no better family for a fresh murderer than the Zoldyck's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the passage flower

It existed a flower that only grew in Meteor City. It fed on toxic waste, and was the only sign of life on the most infested territories. Its tough stem resisted to the incessant winds, and its twisted flame-red corolla showed to imagination slender silhouettes writhing in a fire. It grew up at an unnatural speed, and bloomed a single day before it dies. The detritus that was its subsistence were also its fatal blow. It was the City emblem.

It was also Kikyo's favorite flower, and Silva extracted a young sprout that he planted in a rusted can. He would always bring her a souvenir from her native city, when a contract took him in there. She wouldn't demand this sort of attention, but she was pregnant with their third baby, and Silva put effort into keeping her calm and in good mood. It was for the baby's best.

He trotted with supple and silent strides, his attention focused on the invisible presences around him. He was followed and perfectly aware of it. It was a thing of people here. He was always followed, but never attacked. Not that they were afraid of him; after all these years, he still couldn't tell what could frighten them. No; they only wanted his employer's name. They knew Silva was only a tool, and every Meteorian knew the worth of a good weapon. But they despised people who used their money as a power of life or death. Silva respected this point of vue. But he had never disclosed anything. A matter of professionalism.

It was the reason why he had settled the final appointment with his employer beyond the city's frontiers. Inhabitants rarely ventured outside. Silva had been hired to get an object back from the dead body, a strange box now covered with blood, and hand it over; otherwise he wouldn't have bothered an appointment at all.

He was reaching the dump's limits and the pressure of his pursuers were already fading away. Only one remained, a tenacious, or an optimistic one. Or a beginner, because he was badly hidden, and was approaching too close.

"Is it for your woman ?"

Silva turned over and frowned in surprise. He didn't expect a direct approach, neither what he was looking at. A young boy, not very tall, and slender like a girl, was leaving the shadows of a pile of waste, hands in the pockets and walking with a tranquil gait. He was wearing a pristine white shirt, quite astonishing in that dump. He had feverish and large eyes, and the wind, ruffling his hair, unveiled a strange mark on his forehead. He was a local, it could be told by the way he moved, the ease in his gesture. His posture was pacific. He only looked curious. But Silva didn't appreciate these manners.

"What do you want, kid ?"

"The flower. Is it for your woman ? It's a passage flower. It brings luck to unborn children and soften death throes. Is she pregnant or is she dying ?"

"It's none of your business."

"They are very rare. Not everyone can appreciate it. It must be given to a local."

Silva didn't hold an amused snort back.

"So that's why you were following me ? You want the flower for your mother, small fry ?"

"I have no mommy."

"So go and find one."

Silva started his walk again, ignoring the child. He would easily leave him behind. However, with a nimble leap, the rug rat appeared in front of him, blocking the path. He still had this collected posture, but with an uncomfortable smile, and a solemn gaze that oddly reminded Illumi. This kid might barely be older than him.

"I never disclose the name of my clients. You're wasting your time."

"It's not what I'm here for."

"So tell me what you want and scarper."

The kid pursed his lips in a shy grimace. Silva had already seen this embarrassment.

"No. Find someone else. You're obviously too poor to hire me and I don't do child rate."

"I'm not here for this either. If I decide that someone must die, they die."

The child had a calm and soft voice, that hardened on this latest words. On an intuition, Silva used his gyo. Yes, the child had an aura, thin but very bright. A beginner indeed, but a promising one.

The child understood he was observed and took the speech again, with more confident traces in his voice.

"I've already killed, you know. With my bare hands."

"Of course you did."

"Let me come with you."

So that was it. Silva smirked.

"I don't usually hire my staff this way, but I like your audacity. If you manage to open the gates and make your way through the forest, my butlers would test you and see if you're worthy of interest."

"I don't look for a job. I look for a family."

A gust lifted up the boy's hair and Silva realized that the mark on his forehead was a very old scar. It had been deformed by the growth, but he could guess a cross-like shape. It probably had been made at birth. Some mothers marked their babies before abandoning them. The people here called this : "the angel bite."

The child was staring at him with his immense eyes, and when he spoke again, his voice was so soft that the wind almost took it away.

"Adopt me."

Silva sniggered, pushed the boy away and took his path again. He could feel the boy right on his heels. He didn't care. The kid may not keep the pace very long. He would be out of breath soon, because he who hardly aligned two sentences caught him up and suddenly became voluble.

"I'm talented. I know the nen. I know how to kill, clean and quick. The body has never been found. I was never suspected. I leave no trace. I'm silent. I know the poisons, their uses, their properties, and their antidotes. I know how to prepare it myself. I'm polite and tidy. I'm resistant. I don't eat much. I study a lot. I'm clever. I learn fast. Really fast. The Zoldyck family is perfect for me, and I'll be a perfect Zoldyck."

Silva stopped dead, and the child, swept along by his momentum, collided with him. Silva angrily stared at him, but the child didn't look impressed in the least.

"So young and yet so pretentious. Show me your hatsu."

"I don't show it to anyone."

"I won't hire you if I don't know your capacities."

"I told you. I don't look for a job."

"I allow you a hope for a very sought-after job. Don't be ungrateful. If you don't answer, or if you lie, you'll lose your chance. What is your ability ?"

The boy lowered his eyes and imperceptibly blushed. Silva understood.

"You don't have one yet, do you ?"

"It's… still being perfected" mumbled the child.

"How old are you ?".

"Ten."

Silva weighed him up.

"You're lying. My eldest son is a tall ten years old child. You are a twelve years old punny who tries to appear mature. You failed. Get lost."

Silva took his fast walk again. The child didn't even try to follow him. Silva felt his stare on his back a few seconds before it vanished. Silva left the city behind and looked at his watch. He would be at the appointment on time, despite this unpleasant meeting. He had to phone his clients first with the agreed password. He searched into his pockets. He froze, eyes widen with astonishment. He could feel his phone, along with the strange box a man died for. And that was it. The kid didn't collide him out of clumsiness. This little asshole had stolen his flower.

°o0o°o0o°o0o°o0o°o0o°

Kikyo would always enjoy hearing about his missions at his return, but, as he was pushing the heavy gates with one hand and was greeted by Mike, Silva decided to spare her the story of this little orphan looking for a family. In her current condition, it might break her heart. And he wasn't keen on telling he had been robbed by a twelve years old pick-pocket. It was already irritating enough.

He reached the mountain peak and crossed the threshold of the manor. He came upon a butler, and asked him the same question he always asked for thirteen years when he was coming back home :

"Where is my wife ?"

"In the game room with your sons, sir."

"Does she have company ?"

"Yes sir, but I don't think…"

"Good, I ordered Tsubone to follow her everywhere she go. She begins her ninth month. She get tired easily. But I worried she may have send her somewhere else. She's easily upset when she feels helpless."

"Sure, sir, but it's not…"

"I won't listen any complaint if she brutalized you. On the contrary, it's good for her mood."

Silva left the butler and almost ran under the shower. The stench of Meteor City was like glued into his nose and he couldn't wait to get rid of it. He put on a comfortable yukata and headed for the game room. He could hear Milluki's laughter bouncing in the corridor. He was far more playful than Illumi at the same age.

Silva opened the door and caught a needle flying right to his eye.

"Quite precise, but not quick enough, my son."

Illumi clicked his tongue with annoyance. Milluki threw away his little cars, dolls and dinosaurs, ran and grabbed his father's leg, emitting diverse joyful sounds. Illumi, more collected, simply nodded as his father and returned to his game. He was throwing needles at a ridiculously small target.

Kikyo was kneeled at the little table where the boys usually drew. She was delicately skimming the passage flower blooming in the rusted tin can. She was smiling at a gallant remark just said by the boy from Meteor City.

Silva thought very quickly. He had needed to make a significant detour before coming home. It was the only explanation. The boy could never had overtaken him in usual conditions. It also meant he was stronger than he looked. Those gates weren't heavy enough.

Kikyo made a move to get up and Silva signed her to not bother. Miruki still hung on to his ankle, he came to the table and kissed his wife's hand. She looked up to him with a smile of tender reproach.

"Silva, why haven't you ever told me about Chrollo ?"

He had just enough presence of mind not to ask who that was.

"I'm not jealous enough to reproach you for your past affairs. We haven't met yet when he was born. I wouldn't have judged you differently if I had knew you already had an illegitimate son. But I'd rather heard of it before. I'm annoyed with you, Silva", she teased him.

Silva had two rules he would never break. First of all, never making a scene in front of the children. Second, always sparing Kikyo's nerves when pregnant. Unfortunately, both applied at the moment. He requested all his self-control and answered with a perfectly calm tone:

"I'm sorry, woman. I'll answer every question you may have in a few minutes. How about you drink a white tea, while I have a one-on-one discussion with Chloro ?" The brief amused smile of the boy annoyed him. Did he say something funny ?

"Sure" she agreed. "I'll watch the passage flower opening up. It's his gift for me. What a lovely attention, isn't it ?"

The boy had already left the table and was standing by the door. Silva stood up, unhooked Miruki who started to scream, get out of the room, let the boy pass by, calmly close the door, and grabbed him by the throat. The boy didn't bat an eye. He obviously let him do. Silva effortlessly lifted him off the ground and tightened his grip. This time the boy grimaced, tried to kick him, scratched the robust grip, seeking air. The sight brought Silva a genuine pleasure.

"Listen up. I don't you who you are, and I don't care. I don't know what you want, and I don't care. I don't know what you've said to my wife, and I don't care. But you will rectify your bullshit. Right now. It will be just like you never came here. It will be just like you've never been born. Because as soon as my wife forget your existence, I'll kill you."

Silva let his hold go and the boy collapsed on the floor. He stood up on his four, breathing large gulps of air. He rubbed his throat. Then laughed. Silva felt stupefied. It was a tiny and winded laughter, a joyless laughter, but a laughter nonetheless.

"It's too late." he muttered raucously.

He sat against the wall. His head hardly reached Silva's knees.

"She loves me now. I told her everything. My mother, died in childbirth, the angel's bite you applied on my forehead. Your promise, that I'll become a true Zoldyck when I'll be strong enough to cross the gates. The secret you ordered me to jealously keep, for my own security, and the security of your true family. It's what I said : "true family." I'm such a good boy. I know my place. I know it's normal if I've barely saw you twice a year. I know why you abandoned me, and starved me, and denied me any education, any affection. I know I'm less of a rat for you. I know I have to fight for every crumb of human dignity."

He cackled and showed up a radiant smile.

"She was about to cry at some point… Pregnancy hormones, it's really something !"

Silva's inner thoughts were running all over his mind. " _I can't kill him now I can't she will want to see him again she'll want an explaination I can't kill him now…"_ He gritted his teeth, clenching his fists compulsively. The boy didn't look like he would stop speaking.

"She was so touched when I gave her the flower. I ran to pluck it as soon as I heard I'll have a brother again, you know ? I was so happy ! I've always dreamt to belong to a huge family. Ha, if only I weren't born a bastard…"

"You sure are a bastard."

"She let me touch her belly..."

Silva's knee went and smashed the wall. The boy had tilted his head, without showing any concern.

"You shouldn't do that. I don't wanna appear to my family dishevelled and dusty."

The Silva's thought race suddenly clicked.

"Your story doesn't hold water. You're around twelve. I was already married when you were born. My wife know I would never cheat on her."

The boy shrugged.

"Ho, I said I was fourteen."

He stood up, dust his white shirt and offered this radiant smile again.

"You were right. It's ridiculous to pretend being younger when you want to move somebody to pity. It's way better to make yourself older and look like a malnourished abandoned child. It was better for my story. Kikyo said it was unworthy of you."

Silva was speechless.

"No need to be surprised. It's your fault. Everything should have been fine. I'm a storyteller; but I'm not a liar. Everything I told you in Meteor was true. You are the one who lost his chance. I could have been a blessing for this family. I could have brought you my very best. But you refused to adopt me. What is refused to me, I take it by force."

The kid put his hand on the handle, and softly whispered :

"I warned you, father. I learn real fast."


	2. an heir

When Kikyo invited the stranger to stay for dinner, Silva didn’t feel like contradicting her. He was still thinking about a way to get rid of this boy while sparing his wife’s feelings. If he shooed him away now, he would just confirmed his version, and she would be upset for days, even after his explanations. So for the moment he was remaining quiet, observing, and would draw a conclusion. This was how he always did. And the solution showed up by itself.

Milluki quickly looked for Chrollo's attention, and he satisfied him. He was an enthusiastic and disposable playfellow, with an infinite patience, who didn’t hesitate to play with the dinosaurs even if he was way too old to have fun with it. Milluki turned a couple of times to Illumi, claiming : “Chrollo love me !” “Chrollo is more funny than you ! “ and finally : “I love Chrollo more that Illumi !”. Said Illumi didn’t look like he cared. Confronted to this total lack of reaction, Milluki finally gave his total attention to the guest, this attention became interest, and his interest turned into a real and absolute affection. He demanded that Chrollo served his 4 o’clock snack, when it usually was his special moment with his father. Silva imitated Illumi’s indifference, and watched Milluki stuffing himself, looking at his father out of the corner of his eyes, declaring it was the best snack he have ever eaten. Chrollo looked so proud. Silva refrained from sneering.

When Milluki’s affection would have reached its peak, Silva would order him to kill his new friend. Milluki was old enough to learn that death wasn’t only a distraction. The familial tradition required a puppy, given as a gift to the child, who would have to kill it six months later. Silva disapproved cruelty to animals, so this perfect victim came along at just the right time. A Zoldyck had to respect the value of life not to become a monster, but also to respect the value of death not to become crazy, and the first step was making no difference between destruction and affection. Illumi had shown an astonishing talent for this. 

And Kikyo would support his idea. She was fully committed to their children. She would always favored them in any situation. She wouldn’t regret the stranger if they made a good use of him.

Two birds with one stone.

At diner, Chrollo showed exquisite manners. He conversed lengthily with Kikyo about flora, and surprised everyone by his erudition. Milluki pouted until the dessert. His new best friend wasn’t paying enough attention to him. So, after he cleared the table, Chrollo made amend by telling him a story. A horrible story, full of blood, treason, poured entrails, evil spirits, burned eyes, madness, teared off limbs, and tortured children. Milluki was in awe. Then he applauded hysterically and asked for an encore. And then another one. Chrollo might knew hundred of stories, and Silva had to admit he was indeed a very good storyteller; he found himself listening with pleasure. Soon, even Illumi couldn’t resist and, just before bedtime, nestled near one another under a fluffy curtain, the whole family listened to a bloodcurdling story. At the end, Milluki screamed, and fell asleep. 

While Tsubone was carrying the child into his bed, Silva accompanied his wife in the garden. She was suffering from insomnia lately, and taking slow walks helped her to get to sleep. He purposely had left the guest with Illumi; the boys obviously didn’t get along with each other and Silva was curious of how a face to face would end up. He had been disappointed. As soon as he had been left alone, Chrollo had got a book out of wherever, crossed his legs right on the tatami and started to read, as if the floor were the most comfortable place on earth. He has a touch of a cat in his behavior. Illumi didn’t seem to bother in the least and silently played with his needles.

It was the beginning of summer, but the air was fresh and the wind was getting up, bringing dark clouds. 

“It’s so strange the two boys don’t get along. There's a lower age gap than with Milluki.”

“Milluki is an attention seeker. I don’t think Chrollo knows how to handle people who don’t deeply need him.”

“He’s not bad at taking care of young children, though. I really liked the last story he told. The rural policeman had an ingenious idea, when he gave the baby’s remains to the wild boars. It may inspire the kids if they need to make a corpse disappear in a forest.”

“I’d rather he doesn’t tell dead babies stories in your condition.”

“A dead baby and a killed baby are different things. And I love you all so bad that sometimes I want to eat you too.”

She stood up on her tiptoes and pretend to bite Silva’s ear. He smiled.

“Don’t push yourself.’

‘You’re not really funny today” sighted Kikyo.” You’re upset by the presence of your other son, I can see that.”

Silva saw an opportunity.

“You know… there is no actual proof that he’s my son.”

“I doesn’t matter.”

Silva stopped dead, almost making his wife stumble.

“You knew ? You know this boy is not my son, and you allow him in our house ?”

“You misapprehend me. I know nothing. I have a doubt Silva. I will always have a doubt and will make everything to keep it. If I knew this child is yours, I may be jealous. If I knew he’s not, I may lose interest in him. So I stay with my doubt. It’s better for everyone.”

Something in her tone voice warned Silva. 

“Honey…”

Kikyo rubbed her belly.

“You shouldn’t have married me.”

“I don’t wanna hear such stupid things again. We’ve talked about it often enough.”

“Milluki took the water glass test this morning. He’s a manipulator, too.”

Silva did his best to hide his disappointment.

“He’s only our second child. We don’t know yet what nen killua will develop.”.

Kikyo shacked her head.

“I’m cursed, Silva. My uterus is rotten. I contaminate every baby I carry. I’ll never give you a transmuter heir.”

Silva hold a sigh back. He was feeling more concerned than he showed. Heredity played a crucial role in the nen nature. A Kikyo’s grandfather was a transmuter. He had hoped it would be enough.

When Zeno had reached the age of paternity, he solved the problem on his own way. He closed a deal with a transmuter woman, in good health, strong, well trained, and with no interest for kids.  Silva never knew what the deal exactly had been based on. He’ve only heard that, the day he passed the water glass test, a very rare stone change of ownership. He hadn’t made his own enquiries any longer. It wasn’t his business.

In the Zoldyck family, everything was known about death, and nothing about love. Not that it was a taboo, or a shame; it just wasn’t a matter of concern. Even friendship was an odd concept quite hard to understand. It interfered with business, and Zoldycks learnt to do without. Nothing had prepared Silva to his meeting with Kikyo. He didn’t understood why he suddenly felt this pressing need to be with her all the time, to talk to her, to listen her, to touch her, to kiss her. He had brought her into the manor. He didn’t have a specific goal in mind. He only wanted to spare themselves the horror of a separation. 

When Zeno heard she was a manipulator, he chased her away. Silva felt into a fit of rage and killed two intendants. It had been the day he heard the words “in love.” These words were uttered from two maids, whispering in the corridor : do this, do that, everything is disrupted, master Silva is in love. 

He had never considered this. But yes, it was true, it was obvious, he was in love, so he just had to marry, just like lovers do. Zeno put up a strong resistance. He tried to kill Kikyo. Silva threatened to run away with her, to change his name, leaving the estate without an heir. Zeno conceded more than he consented. He didn’t have a choice.

“Silva…” Kikyo’s voice brought his husband back from his memories. She had an hesitant voice. ”I asked Chrollo what his nen was. He didn’t want to tell me what ability he’s working on. But he’s a transmuter.”

“Did you make him take the glass test ?”

“No, but…’

‘So maybe he lied.”

“Why would he ? And how could he know we absolutely need a transmuter heir ? It’s a closely guarded secret. Even to me, you didn’t tell anything before I became pregnant, and I know why. Ho, no need to look embarrassed. You already honored me by marrying me. You couldn’t take the risk to keep by your side a sterile wife.”

“I would have kept you by my side.”

“As a concubine. You would have divorced, and marry a fertile transmuter. But you wouldn’t have told me why. I understand. Nen ties are sometimes more important than love ties.”

Silva felt a raindrop falling on his head. He looked up at the sky. Dark clouds were accumulating, announcing a storm.

“Let’s get in, Kikyo. It’s starting to rain, and you don’t want to miss the passage flower's bloom.”

Silva wasn’t a man to unload. If he were, while he was accompanying his wife inside their house, he would have told he had never regretted his choice, he had married her in full knowledge, despite everything, despite what he knew, despite the curse that weighed upon his family, despite the story of the first of all Zoldycks and the legend of the seventh nen.


	3. the legend of the seventh nen

A long time ago, far before the Hunter Society’s foundation, before the Zoldycks became a dynasty, before they were a line, even before they were a family, before stories and History had been separated, lived seven men, warriors, princes and poets, who seeked Wisdom. They lived great adventures, and learnt a lot, but when they found Wisdom, it was too early for them and they were rejected. On their way back home, they had been approached by Power, because Power is partial to people abandoned by Wisdom. Power lured them by a gift, and the seven men accepted it. This gift was the Nen, and this is how it had been given to Mankind.

Everyone developped the Nen in their way. The one who wanted to protect the weak developed Enhancement; this one who wanted to change the world chose Transmutation; the one who wanted to provide anyone’s needs created Materialisation; the one who wanted to relieve every pain worked on Specialisation; this one who wanted to support every natural talent made Manipulation; the one who wanted to keep everyone in touch designed Emission; the one who were impatient and hated surprise wanted Temporality.

To everyone Power gave a territory to lead, because Power fed on oppression, and when it gives a great gift, it expects a greater return. First it had been disappointed. Six men were astute and generous, governing with intelligence, instituting fair laws, balancing economy, developing art and peace. They had such a horror of crime it was even forbidden to kill criminals. Power had forgotten Mankind must not be wise to lead.

But the Temporal overstepped all its expectations. Right after his coronation, he settled on a mountain peak, and used his nen to rule a thousand years-old empire that didn’t exist the day before.

From a day to another, fertile lands were dried up from centuries of over-exploitation, people became poor and ill, nearby territories were conquered for generations, museum were emptied and pieces of art piled up in a beautiful manor on the mountain peak that nobody could remember its building. 

Temporality nen controlled Time, but not Destiny; and only Destiny controlled memory. Slave children of slaves remembered their freedom; lands conquered for centuries remembered their language; and above all, everyone remembered loved one of whom nothing remained. Streets and countries crawled with roaming people, screaming names, asking questions, waving frames surrounding blank portraits, looking for their husband, wife, relatives, siblings, children, friends, and all their researches leaded to the same conclusion : they were never been born. They never existed. 

Madness hit them all. Population became a heap of living bodies sheltering dead souls, hunched on their tears and memories that were only images and sounds. 

It’s told the Transmuter had been indignant. It’s told he traveled thousands of kilometers to the Time Empire, on a horse trained by the Enhancer. It’s told he let the Manipulator used his skills on him, so he would never need rest. It’s told the Emitter cleared his path, moving aside mountains, rivers and forests, while the Materialist made for him a bag that will never run out food and water. It’s told he met the Specialist on his way, who was the most delicate poet of this time. He wrote a supplication so beautiful and so moving that it would bring the emperor back to his senses. His charisma and eloquence were renowned, so he accompanied the Transmuter. It’s told every nen acted for the same goal.

Nobody knew when the Transmuter changed his mind.  It’s supposed it occurred when they reached the Time Empire frontiers. Because when he saw those poor wretches who exchanged their humanity for despair, he became aware of the extent of the Emperor insanity. He knew that no word could reach a mind already insensitive to kindness and beauty. He decided to kill him.

It was the worst sacrilege, and was perfectly aware of it. It was probably why he didn't tell his companion, neither the other nen users. He didn’t want to compromise their ethic. That will cause about his ruin.

Before they could reach the Emperor in the mountain peak, they’d have to confront a frightening fighters clan. It was told that their pupils’ color reflected their insatiable bloodlust. The Transmuter told the Specialist he had a plan : he told him to stay by the mountain's foot while he’d be stealing their traditional clothes and blend in with them. So the Specialist never knew his friend slaughtered the Kurta clan. He spared one male only, and cursed him: he was condemned to have a posterity, to rebuild his clan again, who will live and will be slaughtered again, only one male child spared, and  so it will be every hundred years, so their tournaments will never end.   

When the Transmuter reached the palace at the peak, the Temporal of course had left for a while. He had been watching the Transmuter arrival, snorting at this pointless project. He couldn’t care in the least about his guardians. He never cared about anyone. He sheltered in the future, thousands years after, when every nen user were dead, and he was reigning as an absolute master on the entire planet. It was his favorite aera.

But no human remained to be reigned on. Barely a couple of animals. The planet were dead. Only one living form, covered in blood and out of breath, were standing in front of him. He was staring at him, pure fury brightening in his scarlet eyes.

After millennials of massacres, the Kurta understood they were cursed, and who was responsible for it. They understood what the Temporal wished the most, and it was Power, and Power ruled Mankind only. So they confronted Mankind, and won. They knew they only could win. They knew at least one of them would survive. One of them always survived. They used their curse at their advantage.

Either the Temporal used his power to go back in time and cancel the curse, or there would be no matter to have this power at all. The Kurta survivor had a knife pointed on his own throat. No trace of doubt, no nervosity, in these scarlet eyes. He was ready to die.

In a fit of rage, the Temporal went back in time. He knew he would need the Specialist’s help to cancel the curse. He had to cooperate, and he hated this.

The Transmuter met him.

“Your chausses are soaking with blood..”

“So are yours. There is blood everywhere a foot can step on, because of you.”

“ I’m aware of that. And I know you need the Specialist now. He’s the softest and the weakest of us. I won’t let you join him without a guarantee. I don’t trust you.”

“I don’t care about your distrust. Just tell me what you want, and let me pass.”

“Your nen.”

The Temporal’s eyes were wide open.

“Nobody can steal a nen.”

“I don’t want to steal it. Just to carry it while you’re around the Specialist. I’ll put it in there”, he said, joining his hands, and then slowly spreading them.

A hole of pure darkness appeared. 

“I can transform my aura in pure void. You nen will be safe here. You know I can’t handle such a power very long. I will retun it to you before it destroys me”

The Temporal shrugged. He acted like he didn’t care, but actually he didn’t had any choice.

He didn’t expect what happened next. He had never considered the Transmuter could murder him the very second he became nenless. He had always seen himself as the most devilish of all nen users; as a Wisdom rejection, he couldn’t know that good intentions may lead to worse acts than immorality.

Time was freed from its yoke and took its rightful place back. The lands got its normal states back, those who must have been born were born, bringing back joy and health to people. Then, Time turned to Destiny, wondering what punishment deserved Mankind for its hubris. Destiny vouched for Mankind innocence. But Death had been insulted. The Temporal forbid people to be born; so what ? Unborn people wasn’t Death’s concern. But the Transmuter intervened between It and Mankind. His pride was unequalled.  Death reclaimed the Transmuter as its property.

For their innocence, Destiny cleared people’s memory. Nobody had a single recollection of the Emperor and the dark ages he unleashed on them. And to satisfy Death’s wish, Destiny let the manor remained, along with the dead corpses. 

Destiny didn’t like to be commanded by Death, and had been impressed by the Transmuter bravery; so it leave him his memory. Destiny’s presents are not always gifts.

The Transmuter had been accused of murdering an entire clan and a unknown man with no apparent reason.

The four other nen users had been called in to judge the most sacrilege of them all. For his defense, the Transmuter said an stranger nen had grown into his own, and made him lose his mind. The Specialist applied his hands on him, and found it, extracted it, and enclosed it in a nearby tree.  It was the first Nen Exorcism.

The Transmuter also declared a man with scarlet eyes needed his help. But he was nowhere to be found. He had ran away, taking away with him the curse.

The Transmuter had been sentenced to never leave the mountain, so he’d be haunted by his crimes forever. No one recognized Destiny’s voice speaking through their mouths, when they condemned him to carry the Mankind worst sin. He’d be the executioner, the one who’d keep Mankind’s hands pure and clean, by taking murder upon himself and all his posterity. The Death’s property.

To protect the population from this unstable man, the Enhancer built high outer walls around the mountain, and massive gates no usual person could open. To keep him in, the Materialist weaved immense, willowy dogs, who were able to feel the transformation ability; if the Mountain’s master was no longer a Transmuter, they would leave, hunt down and devour every trace of it. The Manipulator gave them eternal life, and the inability to get attached, so they’d always be impartial; they’d only spare those who would be able to open the enhanced gates. 

The Emitter has a good heart, and projected into the mountain a spring of pure water, fat games and seeds of fruit trees, so he would never lack anything. To thank him for his attention, the Transmuter named the mountain by the lapping of the spring on the pebbles, Kukuroo.

The Enhancer wanted to protect the population, but not to cruelly isolate his friend. He had made the gates for his own use, and visited him often all his lifetime. The Transmuter married his daughter, and had two sons. He never left the mountain where he lived long, with his offspring. He was the first Zoldyck, and the guardian of the legend of the seventh nen.

********

 

Silva had heard this story his entire life, just like his father before him, and his grandfather before him, and all the Zoldyck’s heirs. He had been told the importance of a Transmuter heir, at risk of unleashing on the world and every transformation nen user a terrible curse. No one should ever know the Zoldyck’s weakness. And above all, no one should ever know that, maybe, lying inside a tree, remained the trace of a nen so powerful it controlled time itself.

Maha once mentioned the Zoldyck patriarch eight centuries ago, who was so concerned by a possible deformation of the story through repetitions, that he had written down everything in every details. It had been a disaster. A butler had stolen it, and ran away with it. He had been stopped and killed, of course, and the book had been burnt, but the alarm had been enough to keep the transmission orally only.

Nobody guessed what the butler tried by this theft. Nobody guessed he wanted to blackmail the Zoldycks, and as every wise blackmailer, had made a copy of the book. The copy passed through time, handed by curious collectors for its beautiful leather cover, then as a curiosity, then had been damaged, lost value, and had been thrown out, and ended in a dump where everything could be thrown, and had been found by a little boy bitten by an angel, who loved old books.


	4. "how do you give hugs ?"

The rain started suddenly. Silva and Kikyo were dripping when they came back to the game room they left Chrollo in. He was standing straight and tense, his fingers nervously writhing. His book had disappeared. A thunder rolled in the distance.

“Milady, mister Zoldyck, I thank you for your invitation, I’ve spent a very pleasant time with all of you, I hope we’ll meet again soon, you’ll convey my warm regards to Milluki.” His speech was unusually fast and he was reaching the door when Kikyo stopped him.

“You can’t be serious. The weather is terrible. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Thanks for your concern Milady, but I’m sure…”

Kikyo shacked her head, clicking her tongue against her teeth, just like when Milluki was about to do something wrong

“Tt, tt, tt ! You’re way too young to contradict a mother, even if I’m not yours. But we’re a family nonetheless, aren’t we, Silva ?”

“Bfrrgbr.”

“It means “yes” in Silvanish” said Kikyo with a smile, just like Silva had used some mysterious while existing language. “You’ll take your place in the room next to Milluki’s. He will be so happy when he’ll wake up. You sure want to please your brother, aren’t you ?”

“My bro…? Yes, Milady, of course…”

He was obviously nervous and eager to leave, and Silva felt intrigued. This boy had put so much effort into getting in. He couldn’t figure out the reason of such a sudden change. Something obviously happened when they were in the garden. That was why he changed his mind and supported his wife’s decision, and called a butler to settle the boy in the chosen room. The sudden panic in the boy’s eyes rewarded him. The boy had shown the importance he gave to politeness; he couldn’t leave just like that. Silva felt like a little petty satisfaction at thwarting the boy’s plans for no particular reason but his own enjoyment and curiosity.

He also ordered a guard at the door.

Kikyo went to bed early, unusual contractions tiring her more than it should. She had put the passage flower on her bedside table. Its blossom was taking a long time, probably weakened by the transportation. Silva  shooed away the high and slender guard dogs who were oddly restless and fidgety, moaning, sniffing under Kikyo’s door, and seemed to react more than usual to storm and electricity. Silva were looking at them, frowning in curiosity, when he knocked at his father’s private apartment door.

Zeno was leaning over his desk, writing a letter. He didn’t look at his son when he came in, entirely engrossed in his task. Or maybe he was ignoring him. Silva spoke up.

“Kikyo is considering the child’s adoption. What do you think ?”

Zeno wrote down a couple of sentences before answering.

“It’s a good idea. He’s obedient, toilet trained, well-groomed and so decorative, with his little mark in the forehead. He’s playful and has brilliant hair. He’d be a good pet for Milluki.”

“She’s considering something more than a pet.”

“As long as we ignore the unborn child’s nen, he’ll remain a pet.”

Zeno’s voice was unusually harsh. He wasn’t making any eye contact. Something was wrong.

“Father, you are upset.”

“I thought I had passed you down a better sense of responsibility.”

“I keep in my house a boy I dislike for my family’s sake.  I think it’s responsible enough.”

“You married a non-transmuter woman. It was far irresponsible enough for you not to spread your seeds to the four winds.”

Silva almost started.

“What the hell are you…?”

“Just before your marriage” Zeno cut him short “you asked Kikyo a picture of her, when she was younger, before her… accident. Before she had to wear a visor. She had big and beautiful dark eyes. You complimented her. You said she already had the devil’s gaze, before she got the Devil’s Eyes. You like dark eyed women so much…”

“What do you mean.”

“He has pretty eyes, this kid, isn’t he ? Big and beautiful dark eyes… He has from his mother ?”

Zeno deigned to put his quill down and stared at his son with reproach.

“You had full rights to have fun before your marriage. But not to be inconsequential. I won’t ask who his mother is. It’s not my business. If she’s not dead, kill her. This situation is insane enough.”

“I’m not this boy’s father. I ask you to trust me.”

“And I ask not to trust yourself that much.”

The thunder rolled afar. It might be violent to be heard through the thick walls. Zeno took the speech again.

“How many were they ? These women. All brunettes, if I remember well. How many had big dark eyes ? A dozen ? A hundred ? You remember every single one ? You had been a perfect gentleman ? You kept in touch several months long ? You can vouch for every uterus you met ? As a responsible heir ?”

“No need to be sarcastic. I’m pretty sure there are in this world some women I didn’t knock up. At least twelve.”

“Let me be the sarcastic one. You’re bad at it.”

Zeno folded the letter and sealed it. Silva hoped he had finished but he didn’t look like he would leave him alone.

“You observed the forehead mark ? Strange shape.”

“Yes. Like a cross.”

“Or a hesitant “Z”. It would be understandable. Which mother’s hand wouldn’t shake while burning his baby forehead ? Which baby wouldn’t thrash about to avoid this terrible pain ? Babies get an amazing strength when tortured.”

“Yes. I know” Silva muttered bitterly.

“A woman is allowed to be proud of carrying a Zoldyck. It’s reasonable to express this pride. An angel bite on the forehead… it’s pretty rare. As if she wanted anybody to see it. It’s even more rare to wish for a place in the Zoldyck family. As if she had taught him where he belonged…”

“You sink into pure speculations. And a shred of narcissism.”

“Maybe. But about those matters, imagination is the limit. You have no idea what parents can go with for their kids.”

“Unfortunately, I do, father.”

Zeno frowned but didn’t comment. He took an envelope and a globe. He seemed to proceed to complicated calculations, and wrote an address on the envelope. He materialised a little nen dragon who took it in its mouth and swallow it. The envelope slided down its throat and floated in the translucid stomach. Then it flew away by the window, its nen body guarded the paper against the rain. Silva followed it with his eyes until the darkness engulfed it.

“Who were you writing to ?”

“Is it a proper question to ask to his father ?”

“You write to Biscuit Krueger, aren’t you ?”

“If you know, why are you asking ?”

“I thought you no longer see each other.”

“We no longer see each other. But we still correspond.”

Silva didn’t insist. The evocation of Biscuit Krueger always made him feel uncomfortable. Watching his father’s back leaning over another task, he found it preferable to leave. He had a lot to think, after this conversation.

But he didn’t have the time. A butler was running to him.

“Master, our guest had broke out…”

Silva’s heart missed a beat.

“Milluki…”

“... is fine Master, along with all the family. The guest had just… disappeared. I don’t know how it happ…”

“Who was on guard ?”

“Me master, but…”

“You’re dead.”

Silva ran as fast as he could to the boy’s room, cursing himself and muttering names. How could he have been so neglectful ? The boy was cunning and determined, and had a suspect behavior after diner. How could he have take no care ? He was a thief, and a good one, obviously. Now everything was clear in Silva’s mind. The boy had came to take something, and wanted to run away as soon as he had it. He shouldn’t have left him alone.

If he even tried lay a hand on just one hair of his children’s head…

He ran into the guest’s room. The bed was unmade, what surprised him, and still warm, what stupefied him. The boy mustn't be far.

Actually, a simple “en” told him the boy was less than fifty meters from here. In the transformer room. He was perfectly still. He wasn’t running away. He was hiding.

Silva walked calmly to the transformer room. He felt the broken lock. It was been broke open with ability. He open the metallic door.

The boy as sitting on the narrow floor, his face hidden in his arms around his knees, bended against his chest. He was wearing an old Illumi’s pyjama, that was too large for him. He had rolled up the legs. He looked so young and frail.

He hadn’t looked up to Silva when he came in. He hadn’t made a slight movement.

The thunder rolled afar and the boy startled, clutching his knees tighter. Silva crouched down next to him.

“So that was why you were so eager to leave.”

The boy didn’t make a move, and remained silent.

“It’s not wrong to be afraid of storms. A thunder is unpredictable, quick and lethal. It’s a reasonable fear. Your reaction is not, on the other hand. You’re safe in your room.”

The child showed no reaction.

“And to be honest, hiding from thunder in a transformer room… That’s quite a joke, sonny…”

The child emitted a hoarse sound, like a little wet laughter. Silva took softly one of his hand to clear his face, but the boy struggled and turned his face to the wall.

“It’s not wrong either to cry.”

The boy sniffed, at last, without trying to hide it.

“It’s not wrong when you know how to chose your tears. Holding his tears back to spare our loved ones is strength. Hiding his tears to spare ourselves is arrogance.”

“I’m not arrogant.” croaked the child.

“You are. You wanted to leave because you didn’t want us to know you are scared of storms. You took the risk to upset Kikyo, you frightened everyone by escaping and hiding in an unsafe place. You made your fear an inconvenience. That’s arrogance. It’s told irrational fears are stupid. It’s not. Only being ashamed of it is.”

Silva sat in the floor and grabbed the child. He tried to thrash about but it was pointless. Compared to Silva he was as weak as a kitten. Silva settled the kids on his knees. Chrollo looked stupefied.

“What are you doing ?”

“I’m hugging you. It’s a thing adults do to comfort a child.”

“I’m no longer a child.”

“Tell me you’re not arrogant again.”

The boy bite his lips and glance at Silva with defiance, with this embarrassed expression Silva had seen during their first meeting.

“How do you do that ? This hugging thing.”

“As everyone does.”

“We don’t have anything like that in Meteor.”

“So I will show you. First off all, you stop wriggling like a fish. Then you put your arm around my neck. No, don’t clench. It’s not a strangulation technique.”

“Sorry. Reflex.”

“You put your head in a comfortable position. Then I put my arms around you and don’t be afraid, for fucking sake…”

Chrollo had started and seeked for escaping again. Silva brushed his large hand on the little back, and the appeasing touch calmed the child who put his head on the hollow of his neck.

“Like this ?”

“Yeah, you got it. You’re learning fast.”

“It’s a very tight contact. I’m not sure I could get used to it. Habits outside Meteor City are very strange…” His voice started to fade…

Silva observed the children’s face, his big, red rimmed eyes, his heavy eyelids that slowly closed on his sleep, and the mark that, from a certain angle, under the diffuse light of the corridor, looked like, with a little imagination, a Z.

“Where do you come from…” muttered Silva for himself.

The child’s breath became calm and wide, .He was sleeping. Silva carried him in his bed and tuck him in. He slipped a hand under the mattress and the pillow, looking for weapons, and rummage through the neatly folded pile of clothes. Then he came out and doubled the guard. He was about to go in the library when Tsubone ran upon him, her voice winded.

“Mistress Kikyo…”

He understood immediately. He ran to his wife’s room. His steps resonated on the floor at the same pace as the thunder.

The storm raged all night long. Windows at upper floors had been broken, a tree was burnt to ashes and  a mudslide unrooted a part of the orchard.

Andthis night, in chaos, rain and thunder, and the lights that inlayed cruel shadows in the walls, while the dying passage flower was losing its last petal, Killua was born.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I didn't updated for a moment. Sorry about this ! Life happened a lot lately, but I'll do my best to be more consistent in the future. I hope you like this chapter :3


	5. the guest

Kikyo always first breastfed the newborns, and Silva satisfied the second hunger with the bottle. Always it have been and always would be. Or so he thought. Silva would remember this day as the last one as a happy family.

Silva particularly appreciated this intimate contact, the slowly developing bond, the smell of Kikyo’s milk in the warming bottle, and he almost enjoyed the deafening screamings of Killua who cried like ten fire stations on the sun.

It was seven in the morning, Silva didn’t take any rest since he came back from Meteor City, he was emotionally exhausted and seriously needed a nap. When the milk was ready, he taped the bottle nipple over the baby’s body, aiming for the screamings source, hoping the nipple would came into something, and that something would be the mouth. He hardly saw through his puffed up eyes, and his hair looked like a haystack after an army of acupuncturists had looked for a needle in it.

“But how on earth this needle ended up in a haystack?” he mumbled “Is that a logical place to lose a needle ? What kind of person carries needles everywhere ? Ok, Illumi does. But he doesn’t lose them. Not in haystacks, in any case.”

He was talking to a vertical plane surface who looked hostile to him. He didn’t remember he had put any angry surface in the nursery. Maybe if he glanced badly at it, it would go away.  But the surface glanced back. Silva felt defied.

“And who are you to critizice my hair ?”

“The mirror” said the mirror.

“Well mister Mirror, I see you’re making fun of me, and I don’t like that. I’m a responsible father nurturing his last born. I’m respectable. Even if for the moment I don’t know exactly how many children I have under my roof.”

“Really ?” answered the mirror. “I was told only one birth.”

“But before the birth, there has been an arrival. He’s not of my own. Well, I think. I’m almost sure. She had my number, anyway, she would have warned me. And I don’t remember she had big dark eyes.”

“I don’t understand very well.” whispered the mirror.

“To be honest, neither do I.” confessed Silva.

He didn’t understand why he hadn’t made the boy pass the water glass test. It was yet vital. If he was a transmuter and Killua were not, they’ll adopt him. In any other case, Milluki would kill him. It was simple. 

As simple as his feelings toward a hypocrite boy who lied his way into his house, lied to his wife, was cold and calculating, a thief, a manipulator…

...  a clever, talented boy, abandoned in a dump, who learnt to steal to survive, so patient with young children, who was terrified of storms and didn’t know how to give hugs...

“This boy would have deserved better.” He didn’t feel the sentence passing through his lips. It uttered by itself.

“Well, you think what you want,” answered the mirror “ but I traveled long, including through a storm, I’m rain soaked, and as entertaining as it is, I don’t plan to stay up looking at you talking to yourself.”

Silva frowned and slowly turned around. His blurry look made out a small silhouette, surrounded with an impressive amount of luggages. Even though he had only seen pictures of her, he recognized her immediately.

“Miss Krueger” greeted Silva. “I didn’t expect to see you this soon. Actually, I didn’t expect to see you at all.”

“Neither do I, Silva. But Zeno talked about an emergency. And you know I can’t refuse anything to Zeno.”

“It’s none of my business.”

“You are literally the business.”

“I’d rather we avoid the subject.”

Biscuit shrugged.

“As you wish. A cup of tea would be very appreciated, thanks. A light meal too.”

Silva stared at her a whole minute, when nothing could be heard but the satisfied sucking sounds of Killua taking in out on his bottle. When he finished, he put the bottle down, slowly raised his arm and project a little ball of nen that passed through the wall without damage. A remote “Ooch !”, the sounds of hurry steps, and a butler materialized at the door, visibly unhappy and rubbing his butt. Silva hardly opened his mouth to whistle :” Breakfast for the lady.”

“The lady ?” said Bisky while the butler were running to the kitchen. “Silva, you’re so formal. Give me the baby. I need to touch him to evaluate his nen.”

“He’s too young to be evaluated.”

“And I’m too old to be underestimated. I’ve trained hundreds of amazing hunters, and I’ve learnt a couple of things about nen you’d be surprised to hear about, even if as a Zoldyck you know more than common people...” 

Silva did his best hide the concern rising in his mind. Bisky and Zeno were very close, he knew that. They were never in love - he doubted either one or the other could feel the kind of attachment that romantic love is. But their bond was as strong as a married couple. Silva wondered if Zeno had been irresponsible enough to talk to her about the seventh nen. Zeno couldn’t have been so serious all this time. After all, he was his father…

The butler came back pushing a dessert trolley and a chair. Biscuit sat, settled the baby comfortably on her knees, rummage through her bag and took out a small soft ball she put on his fist.

“He’s too young to grab” objected Silva. But the baby didn’t let the ball fall.

“It’s a mystery I never solved, despite my experience. Nen able babies are born with uncommon capacities they will lose, and learn again later. Education scrambles instinct and hypertrophies mental…”

Biscuit took the ball from Killua’s hand, squeezed it, shocked her head and took from her bag two pieces of shimmering fabric. She wrapped the baby in one piece and kept the other one in her hand.

“... But it only partially explains the phenomenon. Even the Zoldyck children, well-versed in nen practice since a young age, suffer this loss. And the bigger the loss, the stronger the future adult.”

Biscuit freed Killua from the fabric and superposed it to the set aside one. The colors perfectly matched up. She took in her purse a copper wire she tangled to the two baby’s indexes.

“It’s not entirely due to nen itself, even if nen brings this out. The same phenomenon can be observed in non-users. Those who carry a hidden talent. They can’t reach it before being broken and accepting it. At this only condition the talent can break free and emerge through the rifts. It doesn’t fix them, of course. It’s not what it’s make for. But it gives the soul a new form. It can manifest any way. Some people show this amazing talent of existing on their own way. It’s rare but appreciated...” She looked down at Killua, frowned and chewed a toast.

“Talent and ease are usually mixed up. But ease is the contrary of talent. Those who have an ease and improve it thicken their soul and bog it down. Ease protects, where talent exposes. Eased people could make the most of the world; but the world would never do anything good with them. They are happy and functional failures. It’s not a bad fate, I don’t feel sorry for them. He’s a transmuter.”

Biscuit untangled the wire from Killua fingers and bring it to Silva’s sight. The wire showed blue undulations.

“It’s not usual to react to copper.” continued Bisky sipping her tea.”He’ll develop an interesting skill. If you want an advice, don’t teach him nen too soon. Let him discover it by himself. What are you going to do with the two other ?”

“Two other what ?”

“Your other children, of course. You have an heir, now, you have no longer use of them. You gonna keep them ?”

Silva stared at her with wide eyes. He needed to clear his throat to be able to speak again.

“You… must be kidding.”

“Never about business. A friend of mine is looking for a pupil. Good man. I could put him in a word for you. The little chubby is good for nothing, but the skinny weird one shows potential.”

“I would not even honor you with an answer. Hospitality laws force me to let you finish your breakfast before I boot you out. Trust me, I regret it.”

Unimpressed, Bisky bite a buttered toast. “I’ve just sailed 800 miles on dragon back. And nen dragons are not more comfy than real dragons. I dropped everything I was doing, for your family, because of one Zeno’s word. I don’t ask you to consider me as your mother. I never wanted this. But I wish you saw me as a faithful ally. I almost belong to this family.”

“A woman who has abandoned his child and then tell him to dump his owns belongs to no family.”

“I didn’t abandoned you. You were with Zeno, and endless line, a sure and brilliant career. A present, a past and a future; that’s everything a mother can wish for her child. Please don’t talk about love or bounds or affection. You’re a Zoldyck, I know how Zoldycks are.”

“No. Obviously, you have no idea.”

Silva took his baby back in his arm and rocked him. Killua slowly closed his eyes and yawned, and Silva took on himself not to yawn as well. He was sleep deprived, and too many things had happened in too short time. He started to grumble for himself without noticing :  “And anyway, why don’t they buy another needle ? There is no longer haberdasheries in this world ? Why do they want this specific needle in this haystack ? It’s gone. It’s ridiculous, just as this idea to burn the haystack and rummage through the ashes with a magnet. Haystacks burn well, at very high temperatures, it would be all melted, this needle. What kind of crazy man would burn a good stack of good hay to find a melted needle ?”

“You’re talking to me ?”

“No, I don’t…”

Something bothered him, and he couldn’t find out what. Well, a lot of things were bothering him right now, and there were another one he couldn’t identify. And suddenly, the idea came through the mess of his train of thoughts to reach his brain.

“When were the last time you came here ?”

“How old are you ?”

“So how do you know how my sons look like ?”

“Ho Silva, you must be tired. Your sons show very good hatsus, but you should have been able to notice them behind the half closed door. Chubby was hungry, obviously, and followed the butler from the kitchen. He brought his brother along with him, I suppose. I’ve been surprised when I saw him. Parents are usually more harsh with their eldest, but you should take care, Silva. It’s not safe for young people to be hit on the head. Even from the corner of my eyes, I clearly saw he has a pretty deep scar on his forehead.”

  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

Chrollo’s body was numb, his ears ringing, while he was running up the stairs. His vision was blurry, he couldn’t tell why. He wiped his eyes. Looked down at his hands with surprise. They were wet. He was crying ? Why would he be crying ? Why would he care ?

“Chrollo ! Wait !”

Someone was calling him. Milluki ? Maybe. Chrollo didn’t stop, didn’t face him. This little fat pig couldn’t run as far as him. Serves him right. It was a relief. Chrollo no longer had to play the perfect brother. It had been such a bother. The shared laughters, the naive games, the genuine and unconditional trust in Milluki’s eyes, and the warm, secure touch of Silva’s hug… Such a bother…

It was so unfair. He was just arrived, and not only this baby were born the day after, but he was a transmuter. All his plans were falling apart. He shouldn’t have brung out this flower. Its influence on birth may be real.

They made him lost his time, and it was an outrage. He wiped a tear that was running for good in his cheek. Wow, he was sure very angry. For having lost his time, yeah.

He sure had a good idea when he gave his snack to Milluki. He was so concerned about his brother...like  performance that he asked the little boy what food he could eat and which were forbidden. Now he knew what was Milluki’s allergy, and where were “the little phials dad takes when he goes out to work.”

Now he knew where was the poison room, he knew where was the kitchen, and he knew how to run away very quickly. This family didn’t need him ? Fine ! He didn’t need them either ! Not like he had expected anything else anyway. It was planned all along. Everything was fake, but he was the one who faked it, right ? He tried a little laughter, but it couldn’t pass through the tightness in his throat.

The last time he had cried, it was while he was earthing the puppy he and Feitan had adopted as children. Pets were a luxury in Meteor City. They were noisy, which can be dangerous when you robb as a living, requires too much care, and cost food, and above all, they  _ could be  _ food. They had lost sight of him and adults had found him first. It didn’t remained a lot to earth, actually.

Chrollo lost his childhood this day. Not in the earth, not in the bones, not in the sense of loss. Death was nothing new to him, nothing scary, nothing sad. He had just wished they could live with the puppy a little longer.  _ That _ was new. Children are excited about the future, and eager to grow up. As soon as they want to go back in time, as soon as they sight for the past, they are no children any more. They fall into youth, when you have lost everything, and nothing was offered you back yet.

It has been in the hole he dug in the trash he found the book about the seventh nen. It was everything he could have wished for. He saw it as a sign. Signs are very important when you just have lost hope.

This is how he decided his hatsu. He would find this nen, make it his own, and he would never be sad again.

It hadn’t been as easy as he thought. His hatsu was special and complicated. He had needed years to perfect it. It gave him time to think about how he would make his way into the Zoldyck’s mansion. He has never considered a single second to break into by force. He knew he was way too weak and clever for that. So when he saw Silva, walking alone in his city, right on his own fields, he saw another sign. He would come along, take his time, and his family. This last point was the most tricky. He had never tasted family life, he wasn’t sure how to do. But why not, after all. It sounded fine when he heard about it. There were a lot of children in this family. Siblings may be amusing...And maybe he could bring Feitan along, they’d adopt a puppy, and…

“Chrollo ! Please wait !”

There were tears in Milluki’s voice. This little brat was faster than he looked. And was coming from a side corridor. Where was he coming from ? Chrollo chose to ignore the twinge in his chest. He didn’t care. He didn’t care at all. Siblings weren’t amusing after all. They’d all be dead in a few hours anyway. He ran faster, giving up on his silent walk. The sounds of his own steps calmed him. It was covering Milluki’s begging voice, finally.

He was slightly out of breath when he reached the poison room door. No butler in sight. Neither Milluki.  Chrollo smirked. Big mistake. He took the handle, opened the door, quick as a breath,  silent as a cat, discret as a shadow, and he...

...bounced against Silva. He felt on the floor. It was like running against a wall.

They both looked at each other with stupefaction. Silva was holding an amber colored phial.  Chrollo’s thoughts were running all over the place. How did he manage to reach this place this far ? He was in the nursery one minute ago.

Between Silva’s knees, he saw a trap door in the floor, and the top bar of a scale. A secret passage. Of course there were a secret passage. Milluki’s had warned him about it. This place was a fucking labyrinth. That was how Milluki had caught up on him. Shit.

Meanwhile, Silva had recovered from his surprise: “What are you doing here ?”

Chrollo stuttered : “I hem, hum… I was looking for… em… the shower room.” He felt a blush rising on his cheek. It was the lamest excuse ever.

“Good initiative. You look like a mess and I won’t introduce you to the baby like this. You’d scare him. And Kikyo will be charmed to see you spruce.”

Chrollo stood up and dust his bottom.

“I’d thought… she wouldn’t see me at all…”

Silva pushed him back, came out of the poison room, closed carefully, and step onto the corridor, waving him to follow.

“Meteor City’s customs are rude, but here, in the civilised world, it’s expected to be congratulated when we have a baby. Get it ?”

“Yes mister.” said Chrollo. He almost had to run to follow him. He was confused. He had something to do and it wasn’t this. What was he doing ?

Silva looked back at him with a frown but didn’t comment. Chrollo had a sudden flash of understanding.

“Congratulation, sir !” he shouted.

“Finally !” said Silva with an amused tone. “For someone who learn so fast, you’re sometimes oddly slow. Here is the shower” he said opening a door. “I’ll brought you clean clothes. You can no longer roam around in this rags.”

Silva closed the door behind him, leaving the child alone, confused, and a little offended about the comment on his favorite shirt.

He looked around. The Zoldyck family was sure rich. There were a bathtub  _ and  _ a shower in there. Wow.

Chrollo only had heard about showers. He heard it was even better than splashing yourself. Chrollo liked that, splashing. He squatted in the basin, rinsing with the tin can, and he was so enthusiastic he always spread water everywhere. The basin got half empty and the water started to get cold, and the game started, the game of “how long can I stay in the water before the cold becomes unbearable”, and when he started to shiver, he jumped out the basin and ran to his clothes on a scream, and he put them on all damp.

He liked to wash with his friends, because they all did that, even Franklin who was way too tall to squat in his basin, even Feitan who never screamed otherwise. Chrollo liked to think it was a secret, a secret between all the poor children, who can’t afford a shower, all over the world. 

He had a secret with the Zoldyck. The secret of the seventh nen. Families are made of secrets.

He belonged here, no matter what they thought.

He took his sweet time under the shower. It was indeed very pleasant. There were many little soaps that smelled so good he wanted to eat them. When he finished, he wrapped himself in a towel, looked for his clothes, couldn’t see them, ran to the door and bounced against Silva. Again. It was already irritating enough if Silva wasn’t showing his amusement.

“You take so much time in there. You sure like to doll yourself up. Why are you on the floor again ? Is it for style ?”

“I didn’t mean it” groaned Chrollo as he stood up. He’d rather change the subject. “My clothes are no longer here.” He didn’t mean to take an accusing tone, but it uttered itself.

“My butler took them to the launderette. Don’t worry, he will bring them back.  _ We _ are not thieves.” Chrollo pretended he didn’t note the emphasis. “You didn’t feel his presence ?”

Chrollo had to admit he didn’t, for his shame.

“So you have to train more. A true Zoldyck must sense any tiniest aura.” The words were harsh but the tone caring. Chrollo felt himself standing straight, squaring his jaws : “I’ll make you proud !”

Silva snorted and ruffled his hair. “I’m sure you will, but for now, put these decent clothes on, and…  _ not here,  _ for fucking sake, there is a room for it...” Chrollo heard him muttered for himself : “Meteorians. They can’t give hugs but they get in the buff in front of whoever…”

Chrollo pushed the dressing room door. There is an entire room just to change clothes ? Rich people are so weird. A Meteorian could rise a family  in this useless room. This suddenly give Chrollo an idea.

“How many children do you and lady Kikyo want ?” he shouted through the door.

The question may have surprised Silva, because he took a couple of seconds before answering.

“I don’t know. As many as will come. As many as Kikyo will accept to carry. And you, how many siblings do you want ?”

The answer gushed out from the dressing room in the same time of Chrollo : “Twelve !”

Silva looked at him with surprise : “Twelve ? That’s… a lot. I’m not sure Kikyo would accept. Neither do I, to be honest. You look sure of your answer. Is it something you already thought about ?”

“Of course !” shouted Chrollo excitedly as he was combing his hair. “Twelve is a perfect number !  We can make teams of two, three, four or six. It small enough to everybody to learn to know each other, but large enough to pair with someone we have affinities with. Knowing there is sev… six nens it’s reasonable to think each nen type will be present at least once. It enhances siblings potential. And I’ll be the thirteenth and will watch over all the other ones.”

Chrollo looked at his reflection. He never had a proper haircut and wasn’t satisfied with what he was seeing. He could see in the mirror Silva’s embarrassed smile.

“You talk about it like it’s a gang.”

Chrollo spined over to face him : “Of course not ! Power balance is way too different !”

“...Sorry ?”

“Gangs often choose a strong and defined hierarchy.” explained Chrollo, facing the mirror again and trying to part his hair properly. “It protects the head and gang stability. I disapprove. Gang power is more important than head’s power. Rigidity is a poor survival strategy. Moreover, who gains power will only seek for more power. In a family, power is hold by parents. No one would try to become his siblings’ parents. If a sibling dies, another replace, without crisis or adaptation time.”

Silva rolled up his eyes. Chrollo couldn’t tell why. 

“How comes you had to think about survival strategy at your young age. And how comes you can’t do your hair ? Gimme this.” he said clicking his tongue just like Kikyo and taking the comb off Chrollo’s hand.

He took a little pot of hair gel and slicked the little boy’s hair back. “Here. Don’t try fanciful things. You look correct like this.” He gave the boy a second look. “Actually, it even looks good on you.” 

Chrollo touched his hair carefully. The sensation of perfectly combed hair was new to him, but pleasant, and he liked hearing Silva's comment about his look. “Can I visit lady Kikyo and the baby now ?”

“I suppose” shrugged Silva. 

He lead him to Kikyo’s room. The whole family was here. Illumi was holding the baby and couldn’t take his eyes out of him. Milluki was slumped on his mother’s bed. He glanced at Chrollo, then looked away when he met his eyes. He asked his mother why the baby was so ugly.

Chrollo kissed Kikyo’s hand and congratulated her. Silva asked him if he wanted to hold the baby. Chrollo panicked for a second and declined. 

“Come on Chrollo” said Kikyo with a tired voice. “Don’t be so shy. The baby must learn your smell.”

“He said he didn’t want” said Illumi, holding the baby tighter.

“Let Killua go, Illumi” replied Kikyo. “You hold him for an hour.”

Obviously reluctant, Illumi gave the baby to Chrollo, deluging him with a million recommendations about how holding him.

It was the first time Chrollo saw a living baby. Those who were abandoned in the landfill weren’t always found on time. He carefully rocked him. The baby sighed, moving his little fists.

“He’s cute !” said Chrollo with a bright smile, as he just discovered the most important thing in the world. Milluki shrugged and left the room. Chrollo suddenly had an unpleasant feeling, like he had done something he shouldn’t. He was feeling like following Milluki and spend time with him, even if he couldn’t tell why it was suddenly so important.

“Don’t bother about him” said Silva as if he was reading in his mind. “He’s going to sulk a little and then come back. Moreover, I have a mission for you” he said taking Killua off Chrollo’s arms, and giving him back to Kikyo, ignoring Illumi reaching out hands.

Chrollo followed him out of the room,very excited. A mission ? A Zoldyck mission ? Already ?

Silva took out of his pocket the little phial Chrollo already had seen in his hand when he left the poison room. “You said you were pretty skilled when it comes to poisons and toxic substances. Could you recognize this one ?”

Chrollo took the phial. “The glass is colored. Is it light-sensitive ?”

“Exactly.”

“I have to recognize it without opening the phial ?” guessed Chrollo. It was a test, obviously. He looked through the glass, swinging the phial, observing the viscosity, sniffing the cork. “Hum… No smell, and something both light-sensitive and so liquid, sorry, but I can’t tell.” he admitted, very disappointed by himself.

Silva smiled. “I would have been very impressed and surprised if you could. I just wanted to verify something. Don’t make this face. It is not your mission.”

Chrollo blinked. Silva explained : “You see how Milluki is feeling right now. He’s jealous of the baby. You heard him, he says he’s ugly. He’s no longer the youngest, he has to learn to be a big brother, to get new bearings with you, and he had heard a conversation with… hem… a family friend and took it the wrong way. He’ll need a lot of attention, but the baby is already draining us. I count on you for this. Spend as much time as possible with him.”

Silva took the poison phial back in his pocket and put his hand on the little boy shoulder, who looked up at him with a new feeling of pride and trust. Silva smiled back at him, and said, with a paternal voice : 

“I want Milluki to love you very, very much.”

  
  
  
  
  



	7. the ancient talks

Maha woke up so early that his mornings were usually the day before for the others. He was eating his breakfast when Killua was born. He had an appreciative nod when he heard the new.  A son again. Good. It will encourage Kikyo to have more children again, until they have a girl. Or they’ll make a girl of one of their sons. It bought surprising results. It happened before. Maha could name all the precedents in the family. He had a stunning memory, and a knowledge about the family nobody could explain. Not that anyone tried. Nobody cared about him, and he carefully ensure it remains this way. He made his life a constant disappearance. He was a ghost, an intangible impression, a drop of a man in the air, and he was everywhere, heard everything, saw what shouldn’t be seen, and no one knew about it.

 

So, at dawn, no one saw him leaving the manor and going to the orchard ravaged by the storm. No one saw him climbing a surviving apple tree, chewing an acid unripe apple, while he was watching.

Below, butlers and the newcomer were cleaning the orchard, saving what can be saved, sawing what cannot. Chrollo was working hard. What an obliging little boy. An helpfulness that looked all natural. He must had practiced hard to show this spontaneity. Just as he may had practiced to propose services that were actually orders. Silva told him he could be a true Zoldyck, did he ? He sure wanted to prove himself.

He was sounding holes left behind by knocked over trees. He said he wanted to know how far the roots were going through the fragilized ground. It was important, to know if the nearest surviving trees were at risk to fall or die. He was running from tree to tree, examining them carefully. Maha smiled and jumped off the apple tree, slowly coming to him, as he was just taking a walk.

“You’re clever.” he said, looking at the sky, just like he was commenting the weather.

Chrollo, a kneel in the mud a covered with dirt, stood up, visibly disconcerted.

“Thanks you, master Maha. To what do I owe this compliment ?”

Maha snorted : “ “Master” Maha ? Be careful, kid. After you served some “lady” to Kikyo all evening long, you’ll raise suspicion. Don’t push it too far.”

“...Lady Kikyo allows me to…”

“She doesn’t forbid you. It’s different.” said Maha while sitting crossed legs on a cut down trunk.

He was smiling at the boy. A thin, witty smile. It let it last. Without saying anything. Chrollo quickly showed some discomfort..

“What do you want ?... I mean, what can I do for you ?”

Maha burst out laughing. “Oho, what a bossy tone ! And badly made up ! Yeah, you can bite your lips, you have a reason. You’re wrong, you shouldn’t want to be adopted and be a second-hand brother. You’re leader material. What a waste to look at you acting flunky.’”

“You’re mocking me.”

“No, I’m having fun of the situation. And I’m admiring. You’re not the first one who walks around the mountain looking for the seventh nen. Every people who tried always started by the venerable high trees on the east slope. A tree that grew up in mythological times, that may be so old and imposing…. they all think that. You don’t. You started the conversation about botanic at diner with Kikyo, you showed off your erudition and all, and Kikyo gave you a verbal map of the fauna around. Clever. And you, knowing the older, rarer and astonishing trees are on the east, you tackle banal fruit trees on south slope. Tell me why.”

Chrollo robbed his neck in embarrassment, looked at his dirty hands, and tried to get rid of the mud of the oversized overalls that Silva led him.

“It’s logical. The legend says the Specialist exorcised the transmuter right away, but it’s probably a deformation through repetitions. No need to lock up so carefully a guy who had become inoffensive again. The Specialist probably needed months, or years, before going with the exorcism technique. Meanwhile, a starting family is stuck on a mountain. They need to provide for themselves. The fruit trees are probably the only trees that were already here from the beginning. Trees die, are replaced, but the orchard remains. The trees are regularly pruned, their natural appearance is modified, they all look the same. This is the best place to hide a special tree, a tree that can’t die. And when mum… lady Kikyo told me the orchard has old and rustic varieties…”

“... your hypothesis had been confirmed” ended Maha. “Very good. How did you know the tree wouldn’t die ?”

“It was more of a hope than a deduction. A time nen may protect its owner from time ravages. The only way to be sure is to verify on the spot.”

“And when would you know you found it ?”

Chrollo bite his lips again. “A clue… A incoherence… Using my gyo…”

Maha shooked his head : “Here stops your genius and you know it. If only a clue or a simple gyo could show the seventh nen, it would no longer be a mystery for anyone for a long time. This tree fascinates every Zoldyck kid. They all look after it at a time of their existence. Why do you think Illumi likes so much lonely trainings in the forest ?”

Chrollo gasped, eyes open wide. Maha laughed again.

“What ? You thought you were the first one ? Silva is right to think you’re pretentious. Ho, here you’re blushing now. You’re a loner, aren’t you ? Those who stay alone too much tend to feel different. Nobody is. Deep down we’re all the same. But loners think that being unique make them important. Nobody is important. There are only people who do important moves.”

“I want to do important moves.”

“You chose the wrong family for this. All we do is maintaining a certain social balance, depending entirely on wealth. What we do is hard, and lucrative, and profits to the dominant social classes, and too many people takes this as “important.” 

“Finding the seventh nen is important.”

“It won’t make you an important person. It will only make you a powerful one.”

Chrollo frowned. Maha pat the cut down trunk he was sat on, inviting the child to sit next to him. “Everyone is the same, but everyone has his own way to be the same as everyone else. Tell me kiddo, what do you prefer most ? Importance, power, or respect ?”

“You don’t talk about love or being myself or anything ? Old people always mention that.”

“Love without respect is vain, and you can’t be yourself if you don’t know what you prefer among importance, power, or respect.”

Chrollo looked to think hard. “But… isn’t it the same thing ? This is what I want, all of them.”

Maha sighed : “What a pity. You’re promising, but you’re still a child. You lack self-awareness.”

Chrollo shrugged. “It’s useless to know who you are when you know what you want.”

Maha almost feel of the trunk out of laughter. “What a clear-cut tone ! How confident you claim such bullshit ! Yeah, you’re definitely made to be a leader. Only a leader can be so dumb and being proud of it. Remember this, you who don’t love yourself and don’t want to learn who you are. Be a leader. Earn respect. Defy order. You’ll make important moves.”

Maha jumped off the cut down truck and stood up straight before Chrollo. Then he stooped. Chrollo looked at this with astonishment.

“How old are you ?”

“It’s a rude question.”

“I pretend I’m older too. To look juvenile.”

“Me too.”

“You look… centenary.”

“So I look much more younger than I am.”

“Aren’t you master Zeno’s grandfather ?”

“I’ve been a lot of people’s grandfather. I’ve alway been someone’s grandfather. You’re right, kid. Temporal nen protects who owns it, even just one second…”

Chrollo stood up, his breathing shorten by excitement.

“You… you are…”

Maha rose a hand in a calming gesture. “No, I’m his son. One of the two he had with the first enhancer’s daughter. My brother and I inherited Enhancement, and a part of the Time Nen touch. We needed a transmuter heir, as you already know. We found a little girl, and a boy, who showed aptitude to Transformation, since the Nen were unleashed on the world. We adopted them. Every genetic bond with the first Transmuter have been cut out. It’s a good thing. The trace of the temporal nen haven’t been transmitted.”

“So you are…”

“.... a little two thousands years old, yes. I’ve stopped counting.”

Chrollo sat down again on the trunk, stupefied. Maha explained.

“Nen is a constant, and finished force. The more nen users are, the less powerful every individual’s nen is. It’s divided. Nobody can imagine how powerful the first nens were, and the Temporal Nen was the most powerful of all. But every nen runs dry. I’m going to die some day. I’m patient. My father killed himself after eight hundreds years. He didn’t grow old, and it terrified him. Time was running away from him. It’s understandable. After all, my father had killed it once...Fortunately, I’m decaying. I want to go to the end of my time. My brother too, I think.”

“He’s still alive ?”

“Ho yeah. He’s the president of this hunter society. He carries the touch of Time Nen too. Some says he’s learnt to control it, through prayer. It’s said he can constrict time, or something… If it’s true, good for him,  bad for the time. I don’t have a lot of news from him lately. He ran out of discussion topics, as you can think. But I think he’s having fun.”

“Why are you telling me this ?”

“So you can understand there is nothing left for you here. I know you’re not a transmuter. And this strange Bisky person will know it soon too. I also know that a transmuter butler of mine suffers from a strange illness that deprives him from his hatsu. I know you’re responsible for this. You created a hatsu to steal the Time Nen - s a basic transformation nen should be nothing for you. But the temporal nen is not a basic nen. A nen that has never been divided, a nen as strong as every nen users reunited… You can’t handle this. You’d die, before Milluki kills you.”

Chrollo looked at the top of the fruit trees, rustling under the cold wind. He remained silent for a moment, then say : “Milluki’ll never harm me.”

“Not that he wants. But he will.”

“We are family…”

“You know nothing about this family.”

Maha had stopped laughing for a moment. He looked genuinely sad for the boy. “This thing you’re feeling right now. This is what happens when you don’t know what you want. You came for a thing, and discovered what you really wanted. What you’re feeling now, this is what happens when you’re not prepared to lose what you really desire. You have to learn this. Or you’ll spend your life in vanity, chasing what other people craves for, unable to chose your own desires, and you’ll get things you don’t care about, and get bored of, and then you’ll want something else, stealing and wearing and wanting again, and again, and again.”

“You’re lying.”

Chrollo stood up too. He was taller than Maha this way.  He had recovered his authoritarian voice.

“You’re just trying to scare me. You’re wrong. I’m not a child. I know what I want. And Milluki. Will never. Harm me.”

Maha sighed with an infinite sadness. “Poor child. Silva is right, you’d deserve better.Think what you want. But go away. You came here to earn something, not to lose the last property you have. Take care of it. Go away, before your heart is broken.”

Maha slowly walked away. Chrollo looked at his back. His face was indecipherable. 

“Master Maha !”

Maha, his back still turned to him, had a witty smile. “What again kiddo ?”

“The tree. The tree of time. What is it ? Which one ?”

Maha snorted : “You were sat on it one second ago, boy.”

Chrollo jumped as if his butt was suddenly on fire and palpated the bark. “What ? It’s cut ! It will die ! Will it ? I mean… no it’s just a tree, a tree can’t live out of time only, master Maha, we need to…”

“Don’t feel sad for this tree. It made terrible oranges. Bitter as can be.”

“The nen ? Where the nen gone ? What will occur to it ? Will it come to the ground ? What if they burn the tree ? Can a nen burn ?”

“So many questions and none of them is right. The nen is gone for a while.”

Chrollo took his breath to ask another questions but rather stay silent.

“I told you, stealing the nen would kill you. You didn’t asked why, which is quite surprising of you.”

Chrollo thought for a second. “It happened before.”

Maha nodded. “A little girl stole it. Not on purpose. She had no idea. She was just adventurous, and, I must confess, a bit capricious. She couldn’t stand anything being refused to her, even if she had the kindest heart. A bit like you. She only wanted to taste an orange. Because it was forbidden, no one was supposed to touch this tree, she wanted to know why, and because she wanted to make me a juice… It killed her”

Chrollo saw the back of the old man shrinking even more. Even without seeing his face, Chrollo could feel his immense sadness.

“... She was your daughter, right ? The one you adopted.”

Maha nodded again. Chrollo licked his lips, asking carefully :

“So…. the nen… is in her grave…?”

Maha turned to him, glancing at him with reproach. “Maybe I got carried away when I said you have a kind heart. You never lose your target, don’t you.”

Chrollo grimaced : “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking of robbing…”

“You were.” Maha sighed. “I don’t blame you, I did worst for less. But no, it’s not in her grave. She has no grave. I say she’s dead, because living people usually stand in a spot in time and space.”

Chrollo frowned : “What happened to her…?”

Maha shrugged : “Nobody exactly knows. Since she bite this orange, she’s nowhere and everywhere at the same time. I can feel her existence, but not her presence. I’ve learnt to recognize her. In unbelievable coincidences, when time seems to roll on itself to create a chain of precise actions that lead to a present that has always been there but shouldn’t. I recognized her in the curious demands of time, and rewards that had nothing to do with the demands.I repeat, the temporal nen is too powerful. It almost has its own will. She’s the nen now, and the nen is her. It’s said time is capricious. It’s said time can heal anything. It’s true. Time is a six years-old little girl. If you want to know where the seventh nen is, call her. Her name is Nanika.”

 


	8. the mecanism of tragedy

Humans were wrong. Time was not a dimension. It was an energy.

Nanika bite a bitter orange, and knew how time tasted like. She could have touched it, if she still had a hand. She could have saw it, if she still had eyes. But all she had was her pure, naked, refined existence, and time, more time than her previous human mind could imagine, more time than all the time in the universe.

She felt her life slipping out her body and blending with the substance of time, smoothly, evenly, and knew life and time were of the same nature. What humans called "life" was just the light touch of time inside a body. A chemical reaction. The body vibrated as long as time dwelled inside, and when the body was consumed, or if an accident, an illness, interfered with the chemical reaction, time left out, recovered its freedom, leaving the body behind. When humans' time were coming, it meant their time was going.

What humans call "death" was like ashes after a fire. Time couldn't act on death. No matter how long any god wait, what was dead would never come back to life. No fire could set ablaze ashes. Death is a time toxic waste.

It existed a flower that grew only in Meteor City, that fed on toxic wastes.

A flower that supported births and deaths. That pushed time into new-born bodies, and expelled it from dying people.

The Passage Flower, carried by the wind from the Dark Continent, that grew on lands where nothing could grow. On lands where nothing happened. Where where nothing, but death, silence, and time.

Humans are astonished about plants strength, that can cover desert in thousand colors, dive its roots to the earth core and nest clouds, and even the tiniest daisy that can break through the thickest concrete. How impressionable humans. Nanika knew they were even stronger than that.

Time is blind, time is merciless, but time is not insensitive. Nanika could feel the flower's influence on time course. She could feel the time around being sucked and twirled and twisted and spited, and the fever in the time substance, and the thrust into nature itself, so strong and quick that animals became nervous, and weather created a storm to recover its balance. Nanika could feel the time bonding the flower to a body that carried another one.

Two bodies, a mother and a child. The mother was generously giving her own time to her baby, but it needed to stop now, or she'd die. The smaller body inside the bigger body needed to receive it's own time.

Nanika felt the flower catalyzing time into the smaller body. She felt the chink, the small crack in time, and the little hallway between the passage flower, the smaller body, and the bigger one, and she slipped into.

She escaped.

What was dead could never live again, but Nanika had never been dead. She wasn't ashes. Neither was an anomaly. A scoria. Worst that that, she was indiscrete.

Nature abhors a vacuum. Insects hatch out from dead animals bodies, plants grow up from decaying dead leaves. The toxic waste that was death, it nurtured something else. It was called "peace".

What the matter of time, if you find no peace.

Nanika had to live again, and then die, to receive her peace.

The bigger body that created smaller bodies would created another one soon, and before it received its time, she'd replace it with her own. Maybe the body would already have its own existence. Nevermind, she'd see. A human body just needed existence and time to live, it didn't matter if it came from two different sources.

Nanika remembered when she was an emperor, when she was a murderer, when she was a tree, an orange and a little girl. But the place she was standing now what both familiar and out of reach of her memories. She was in the place bodies were created, before they get a time, before they could have a memory. It was the place of the eternal present. Free of time. The only place she could have escaped into. It was warm, dark and safe, she could feel the calming rhythm of a pulse, the weaves of a breathing, the remote echoes of a voice. It was pleasant. It was comfy.

She felt grateful. She was glad to feel something. It has been… so long. She felt happy to feel that something had been long.

She felt grateful for the boy who brought the flower.

He granted her greatest wish.

°o0o°o0o°o0o°o0o°o0o°o0o°

Milluki was turning the amber phial in his little hand. The viscous substance was sticking to the insides. He didn't dare to look up to his father. He didn't want him to notice he was about to cry.

But he couldn't conceal anything from him. Silva kneeled before him, rising up the little quaking chin from his finger tips.

"I know I'm asking for a hard work. A very difficult mission. But it's for the sake of family. I think you're ready. I know you've heard this termagant… this women in the nursery, saying you don't worth anything. I know she's wrong. I know you can prove she's wrong. The quicker you accomplish your mission, the more proud I'll be of you, but be sure, I'll never, never be disappointed. Even if you fail now, you'll never be a failure. This is a poison I've made. It's colorless, odorless, almost tasteless, and I made sure Chrollo can't recognize the substance and go up with an antidote. All you need to do is pouring this poison in a drink. Not in water, for it's not the same density, but something like a milk-shake, or whole milk, preferably something sweet. It's your first time, I've prepared everything to ease your way. Don't push yourself. OK ?"

Silva wiped a tear that was running on Milluki's cheek, kissed his forehead, and left the bedroom. The little boy looked at Tsubone for help, but she averted her eyes in embarrassment. "Sorry young master, I can't do it for you. Master Silva ordered me."

"Please Tsubone… I don't want to do it…"

Tsubone looked back to him. She had witnessed this so many times, the distress, the sense of loss, the fear, the pain. So she did what she'd always done, with Illumi, with young Silva, with Silva's brother, and what she'd do with Killua, and with Kalluto.

She took the child in her arms and gave him a big hug.

°o0o°o0o°o0o°o0o°o0o°o0o°

Chrollo had been so diligent in the orchard, he showed so much interest in trees and plant, that no one thought about asking him what he was doing when he got deeper in the forest. Every butler assumed he had another important work to do.

Chrollo was feeling blessed for his very good memory. Meteor City had its own and unvaried flora. He had never seen the plant he was looking for but in books, and the illustrations weren't very good, damaged by bad weather. He wasn't sure he'd find what he was looking for, but renowned assassins as the Zoldycks, may have their own little secret garden, right ?

And eventually, he found the plant he was looking for. The fruits were small and hard. Perfect. The hemlock fruits were even more toxic when unripe.

°o0o°o0o°o0o°o0o°o0o°o0o°

Milluki slowly stopped to cry in Tsubone arms. The butler put him on the floor, kneeled before him, forced a beam on her face : "What can I do to comfort you, little master ? How about a little snack ? Or candies ? I won't tell your mother, I promise."

"...Hot chocolate" whispered the child.

"I'll make it myself, I know you like my chocolates" said Tsubone with enthusiasm. "Will you take it in your room ?"

"In the playroom" sobbed Milluki. "And… Tsubone ?"

"Yes, little master ?"

"Make two" he added with a croaking, broken voice. "A bigger one, for Chrollo. Make sure… to use whole milk."

°o0o°o0o°o0o°o0o°o0o°o0o°

Maha had said Chrollo knew nothing about this family. But Chrollo knew it was the kind of family who built a secret passage between the nursery and the poison room.

Kikyo had been charmed when Chrollo asked to see the baby again. She was happy to know that some family related person would stay by the baby's side, and this person wouldn't be Illumi, who hold the baby too tight and woke him up in his sleep to check if he was still breathing. Kikyo'd rather take care of the child herself, but she was exhausted, more than ever, as if she was still pregnant, as if something was still sucking her energy from the inside.

Chrollo had been left in the nursery where Killua was taking a nap, and it didn't take long to find the entrance of the secret passage. He had all the required ingredients, but he still needed the mortar and the alembic to distil the substance. He had to be quick. It was pretty experimental. Chrollo liked the thrill of experiments, of course, but above all, it was necessary, in a assassin family, to use a poison none of them could recognize.

And he had to infuse an antidote too. It was crucial for his plan.

He stole two empty phials in Silva's drawer, filled them with the poison, carefully closed them, hoping Silva wouldn't notice his larceny. If everything went good, he could bring them back in two days. Conceivably, the Zoldycks wouldn't have to create a new poison in the meantime. It was a risk, but a calculated one.

The two phials in his pocket, he took down the scale to the nursery. Nobody had detected his short disappearance. Killua was still sleeping, his eyelids fluttering in a dream. He was so cute. Chrollo leaned on the cradle, giving a delicate kiss on his forehead. Killua sighed, but didn't wake up. Chrollo hummed in hushed tones : "Killua, sweet Killua, Zoldyck's heir of great value, gentle baby, I'm sorry, but I'm going to kill you."

°o0o°o0o°o0o°o0o°o0o°o0o°

In his private apartment, Zeno celebrated Killua's nen with Bisky. It was still a little early for champagne, so they clinked cups of coffee.

"And how about the other child ?" asked Bisky. "The one who came yesterday. I haven't seen him yet."

"You did." said Zeno sipping his coffee. "You mistook him for Illumi. Do you ever take a look to the pictures I send you ?"

"Honey, on the last picture, Milluki wears diapers."

"Fair point. But it doesn't allow you to call me "honey""

"Ok old rag. But it doesn"t answer my question. Do I examine him ?"

"Don't bother. He has a nen, and I'm pretty sure he has a hatsu. He'll pass the glass test. I don't know why Silva hasn't asked him yet."

"He think the child deserves better. I heard him."

Zeno shrugged. "This guy sure has some paternal strak. I wonder who he has that from."

"Not from me, for sure. But Silva is responsible, more than you think" she added when Zeno rose an eyebrow. "Your job is risky. Silva is the only survivor of his siblings. He didn't have the time to get to know his little brother a lot, but he sure didn't forget. A Zoldyck family needs to have some transmuter in reserve. I wish the best for Killua, don't get me wrong, but..."

"I got you perfectly right. I think the same. But the stranger is older, if he's adopted now, there'll be inheritance wars. Maha's seen this before. I don't want Killua to be despoiled. If he's really a transmuter, his kid must be Milluki's butler at the most."

"Or Killua's. The kid is so fond of this baby, this is very touching. A real little mom. Kikyo told me he wanted to watch him sleep, and he insisted to give him the bottle himself when he'll wake up. He was pretty keen about that. Kikyo accepted, of course. Looks like you found a weird sweetheart."

°o0o°o0o°o0o°o0o°o0o°o0o°

Chrollo had changed clothes when he heard Milluki invited him in the playroom, and he was so happy and impatient he was bouncing his way to the room. The phials in his pockets were clinking. He'd had great news to tell him.

But Milluki didn't look like he'd be open to joy and great revelation. His face was serious, and the fake smile he was trying couldn't help. He was holding two steaming cups. Chrollo took them from his hand to hold him against his chest. He was really happy he had learnt this hug thing.

"We're going to be brothers. For good. I promise." he whispered in his ear.

Was it the emotion ? Milluki started to cry. Chrollo kneeled before him, a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong, Millu-Millu ? You don't want us to be brothers ? You don't like me this way ?"

Milluki was sobbing so loud he hardly enunciated : "Oc.. ofsc.. Of curse I wou.. Want ! You best brother ! You play with me ! You give hugs ! You don't call me fatty ! I want to erase Illumi and you're my big brother from the beginning ! I hate him ! I hate my father ! I hate my family ! I'm not a asssi...assuss...an assassin ! I don't want to be a big brother ! I don't want responsabilibilibilities ! I want to be a little boy and play with you !"

Chrollo didn't expect this emotional river. A bit disconcerted, he handed him a steaming cup. "Here, take this. It smells good ! What's this ?'

"Tsutsutsubone's chocolate. Best one. Only when we're sick, or to reward us, usually. But today's special."

Chrollo beamed : "Yes, it is. Today, we're family." He sat crossed legs and took a sip from his cup : "What could refrain dad to adopt me, do you think ?"

"... You not transmuter. And anyway, Killua is. Everything is spoiled. It's the end."

Chrollo almost choked on his chocolate in laughters :" You're so dramatic ! What if Killua died ?"

Milluki shrugged. "Won't happen."

Chrollo took another sip of his chocolate. He got a little milky moustache. "Babies are fragile. If Killua became very, very sick… and die. No longer Zoldyck heir but me. You'd said, I'm not the only transmuter in the world. But what if… two of their children became very sick… and I save one. Like a big brother. Like in reals families. These thing happen all the time in books."

Milluki looked confused. Chrollo gave him time to process, drinking his chocolate. It was indeed very good. He should compliment Tsubone.

Milluki shooked his head like a puppy going out of water : "I don't get it."

Here came the delicate moment : "We're family, aren't we, Milluki ? You love like a brother ?'"

"I do."

"And sometimes, people must do very difficult thing, for the sake of their family."

Milluki's voice croaked : "...I know."

"I created a little toxic the adults don't know. I'm pretty sure they don't know. I poured a little in your chocolate when I took it from your hands. It will give you symptoms like you're sick. Soon, Killua will show the same symptoms. Like it's a contagious disease, that only harms younger kids. No one could suspect poison. Don't worry, I'm making an antidote. .I'll ask to be your nurse, I'll take great care of you, and tomorrow, I'll give the antidote in secret, and you heal. But not Killua. Everybody mourns, but I'm here, you're here, we're brothers and I'm your savior. No parents could get rid of me after this. It would be like a sign, and they'll need to transfer their affection to someone else. It's called : "psychology", you'll need it too when you'll be older to get what you want."

Chrollo finished his chocolate in a enthusiastic gulp. He was pretty proud of his plan.

Milluki slowly put his cup down. "I noticed it has a bitter end. But I thought it was sadness."

Tears ran again down his face. Chrollo took him in his arms again. He hoped he was doing hugs right. The child sure need comfort. He was holding him so tight….

"I'm sorry Millu-Millu. But don't worry. You'll feel dizzy and feverish, but I doesn't hurt…"

Milliki hide his face in Chrollo's shirt. "It doesn't matter… it doesn't matter at all…" he rose his face to chrollo, distress and despair in his eyes : "Chrollo… If you can't give me the antidote… if… you die… it means Killua and I will die, too…?"


End file.
